"The separation imposed by the departure of a loved one evokes pangs of sorrow and shock among those left behind. The hurt is real... Even though we understand the doctrine - even though we dearly love God and His eternal plan - mourning remains. It is not only normal; it is a healthy reaction. Mourning is one of the purest expressions of deep love... The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life..."
-The Gateway We Call Death - by Russel M. Nelson
Journal entry - The week of Kate's Funeral
October 2009
These last few days, we’ve had a steady stream of people who’ve
come to the house to share their condolences.
It’s been unbelievable. I had no idea there were so many people who
care for, and love our family. Scott and
I both grew up in this town, so we (and our families) have many great friends and
acquaintances here. People from church have brought dinners, and food, and
treats, and more food. Our Bishop has come to share tears and talk with
us. Loving neighbors, and other people on the
block that I hardly know, and the kids’ principal and teachers (past and present) have all stopped by. Even
pastors from other denominations have come to visit us and let us know they are
praying for us. It’s nice to know there
are so many good people in the world who are committed to following the example
of Christ, and are “willing to bear one another’s burdens; mourn with those
that mourn; and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.” It
touches our hearts to have this much love and support.
People who knew and loved Katelyn are my favorite people to
talk with. I love it when they share their favorite memories of her. I
never want her to be forgotten. That
might be one of my biggest fears right now, that life will go on, and people will
forget our beautiful brown-eyed girl named Katelyn. But from the way people talk, I know she is so loved by many, including friends, neighbors, and people at church - like
the Bishop, and her Nursery teachers. I believe she will forever live on in their hearts.
My neighbor friend Jamie, who lives across the street, was
one of Katelyn’s nursery teachers who adored her. She has shared many tears with me. Jamie checks on me often. She doesn’t wait to be asked when she sees
something she can do to help. She even
went shopping for a new outfit for me to wear to the viewing. (My mom sent her some money, of course, and
sent her on this errand, unbeknownst to me.) It’s good to have someone thinking about
details like this, because I can hardly get my thoughts together and focus long enough to do anything right now. It’s the
craziest thing. My mind is everywhere but here. (Jamie even came over the morning of the
funeral to help me get ready. I owe her
a great debt of gratitude.)
One of my best friends, Pam has been over with her "healing oils" to help relieve some of the tension in my neck and shoulders. I am thankful for her friendship. I can tell Pam anything and know she'll never judge me, and she always knows just what to say. This girl loves me like a sister (and it's a good thing, because I don't have one.) Pam has been here for me for many years. Our kids started out as babies together. I'm glad to have her and her little family as our friends.
Danny (Scott’s brother) has also been a big help to us,
especially with all the funeral arrangements. He’s been our go-between guy to help work
everything out with the funeral home.
He’s done a lot of the legwork and preparation for the viewing and funeral so
that we wouldn't have to. Danny is good
to have around, with his great sense of humor. He has a talent for
making people smile, and laugh even in the saddest circumstances. It’s good to see Scott’s spirits lift when
Danny is here. For a moment he actually forgets
that he’s living with a hole in his chest.
For a moment, he can actually breathe.
My mom and Scott's mom, Dawn, have been taking care of the kids and the baby, a great deal throughout this week. Carson and Karlee have been to Grandma Dawn's house (which is close by) to be with their cousins. It's good for them to be able to play and think about other things. My mom has been here with me, helping to take care of baby Kortney while I have had so much company. I'm thankful my kids have been in good hands while Scott and I have had so many visits at the house, and plans to make for the funeral.
My sisters-in-law, Angelene, Dawnielle, and Tiffany are helping with the decorating for Katelyn's viewing at the funeral home. I am amazed at all they are doing to represent her beautiful little life through photographs, collages, scrapbooks and a few of her favorite belongings. Thanks to them, the viewing is going to be beautiful.
All these people (and more) are taking the busy-work for us so that we can focus on our little family. Because the details are all being taken care of, I am able to hold my baby, and sit with my children, and have special little conversations with them concerning their feelings about Katelyn, and what to expect next. This is such a crucial time for our little family to feel secure, and assured that everything is going to be alright. What a blessing that people are willing to take care of everything else, so we can focus on the most important things.
These all must be examples of what it means to “bear another’s
burdens” – lifting and helping the broken-hearted in any way possible. I can literally feel a heaviness lift when
friends and family come to show they care. I really
don’t know how else we could get through this without everyone's support.
I am exhausted. I think grief alone must take up a lot of energy,
because I am so, so tired. The last
couple evenings I’ve literally collapsed on the couch, too tired to move. No kidding.
Can’t even lift my arms. My sweet
dad helps me eat soup (and only soup because a constant lump in my throat makes
it impossible to eat anything else.) He
makes sure that I eat, because I forget to.
I have no appetite at all. Dad
thinks my body is still going into shock at times, because when I’m so overly
exhausted, my hands turn ice cold, and I start to shake, and sometimes I get a
little short of breath. Dad
gets me a mug of hot soup to warm me up.
Drinking soup works well – it
goes down easy, and the warm mug feels good in my cold hands. Even in these awkward moments, people have stopped
by. They’ve seen me wrapped in a
blanket, shivering. It’s a little
embarrassing to be seen in this kind of state – with my body shut down. Still, my mind is very alert and I enjoy
their visits. They don’t seem to mind seeing
me as such-a-mess.
I’ve talked to so many people. Some are closer to me than others and so I
share with them in more detail about the story of Kate’s accident. I want to talk with my close friends and
family about things, but I know that as I do, my mind is reliving the trauma
over and over. I’m not sure if that's a good thing. My mom doesn’t think so. She thinks it’s too hard on me to keep talking about it. But for some reason, I feel the need to talk –
maybe because my mind is trying to process it all. I’m glad I have good friends who listen.
However, I do worry about burdening them. Maybe I need to look into talking with a
Grief Counselor.
Scott has woke
me up from a couple nightmares this week.
And during the day, there are moments when my mind will hit me with the most
painful images so unexpectedly that I actually wince right out
loud. It surprises me. Someone said it might be from some Post Traumatic
Stress. It’s amazing
how powerful our minds are, and the affects emotional stress can bring. Maybe a Grief Counselor can help me with
this as well. I hope so.
I keep thinking - Is
this really FOR REAL? Or is this just a
really bad nightmare? I know the answer,
but… How I wish it were just a really
bad dream that I could wake up from. I wish my little girl would come running in
from the other room and wrap her little arms around my neck and give me one of
her bear hugs.
It feels like she should still be here. It’s unbelievable that she’s gone. My mind is having such a hard time wrapping
around the fact that she is never coming back.
I see her little things – her toys – her shoes… It hurts to think she’ll never wear them
again. It really knocks the wind out of me.
We brought her little suitcase home from Vegas. I just put it in the piano room, in the
closet and shut the doors. I can’t bear
to see it. It’s a sad reminder of the
trip to Vegas. I don’t even want to
unpack it. I’ll just keep her little
swimsuit, and water-wings, goggles, flip flops, pajamas, and her little outfits
there inside it. All except for her Princess blankie and her Dora
and Boots – I took them out. Somehow I
can’t sleep right now without them.
Will we ever feel good again? Will the hurt ever stop? I pray we can feel some peace. There are moments when I do. And there are moments when I can feel my
Heavenly Father’s love. I just pray He'll continue to help us - I pray He can calm our troubled hearts.
"Be still my soul."
The following are
notes I took from a couple Bereavement books and websites.
These were very helpful to me in understanding my grief and may be
helpful to others who need…
It is okay to grieve. The death of a loved one can feel like sudden, unexpected
and drastic amputation of a limb without any anesthesia. The pain cannot be
described and no scale can measure the loss. We want so much for our loved one
to return so that we can do something, and we ache knowing that it just can’t
happen. You need to know that it's okay to grieve.
–When the Worst Has Happened, SAVE.org
–When the Worst Has Happened, SAVE.org
The single most important
factor in healing from loss is having the support of other people… Even if you aren’t comfortable talking about
your feelings under normal circumstances it’s important to express them when
you’re grieving. Sharing your loss makes
the burden of grief easier to carry.
Wherever the support comes from, accept it and do not grieve alone.
Connecting to others will help you heal.
- HelpGuide.Org
When you experience a tragic and sudden loss of a child (or loved one) the need to talk is real – and it is normal and healthy.
Talking – it is common among bereaved people to feel a profound urge to talk about the loved one’s death.
The re-telling over and over of tragic or sorrowful events is a way to make the unacceptable REAL. Your mind might know the truth but deep inside, you might not really comprehend your child’s death and may not for a long time to come. The process is slow.
The need to repeat is a way of dealing with grief. One discussion is not enough. You need to repeat it again and again. Each time the story is told, the finality of the death sinks in a little more.
The need to talk or ‘tell the story” decreases as healing progresses.
You desperately need a listener who is accepting and
supportive and willing to listen patiently to often repetitive stories.
When feelings of anger, frustration, disappointment, fear
and sadness are expressed a good friend will accept those feelings. If you (the survivor) keep them buried, bottled inside, you
will slow the healing process. Sharing
thoughts and feelings lessens the stress.
The increased stress experienced during early grief can lead
to health problems for some people. A
good friend helps you stay healthy by listening.
- Parting is Not Goodbye – by Kelly Osmont and Marilyn McFarlane
Thank you to all my friends who’ve lent me a listening ear
through the years.
I love you lots.
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